


Thread of Grace

by Arsenic



Category: Jewish Scripture & Legend
Genre: F/M, anti-Semitism, female voices, intended genocide, purim story, unequal marriage dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12958284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Esther is in a world she has never known, a world she has never wanted to know.  Still, she must save the one that is all she has ever known.





	Thread of Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antediluvian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antediluvian/gifts).



> This is unbeta'ed due to its treat status, so sorry for any mistakes. I've taken a number of liberties with this story, but I just really wanted to delve into this concept of Esther as a real person, someone who had to make the affirmative choice to do as she did. Thanks for the prompt, recip, I enjoyed the hell out of this, and hope you get a bit of enjoyment out of it yourself.

The first night, in the dark, Esther prays for strength. She has never known the touch of a man before now, not even something as small as a stolen kiss. There have been looks from boys, now and then, but nothing—nothing to prepare her. She understands, now, what the village midwife was trying to explain. 

She aches, and is all too aware of how alone she is. When the sun comes up, she cannot head back to the corner of Shushan that has filled her whole world until now. She cannot pester Lilah, her best friend, about the other girl's yearning for Yaakov, cannot whisper to anyone how she is scared, cannot even ask the rabbi to say a special prayer for her. 

The palace is grand, and Esther feels a due amount of awe for its ever-stretching hallways and intricate spires, but it is not home. She does not suppose she shall ever have a home. At least not one where she bakes _esh-tanur_ early on the sixth day, in preparation for the coming of Shabbat, and where she gets slightly tipsy on _arak_ after Shabbat dinner. One where she knows the food is clean, because she has prepared it. One where she does not have to put a mask of faith in a religion not her own.

She swallows and tastes salt.

*

Mordechai comes to the palace on Shabbat without fail. There is not much that can be done within its walls, but they find places to speak away from prying eyes for an hour or so at a time. He talks to her quietly of how her friends fare, of how the cypress tree she used to love climbing looks. He teaches her quickly, a small _drash_ , something related to the week's _parsha_ , grounding her in the passage of time. It is her favorite moment in the week, the only time when she is entirely certain she is still herself.

She knows something is wrong when he seeks her out on a weekday, knows before he says, "Haman has set a date to exterminate us," says, "You must speak with the king."

She cannot think. She has lived in Shushan for the whole of her life. She has known what it is to go amongst those who are not Jewish, who refuse to sell to them in the market, who throw rotten fruits at them for the crime of simply believing differently. But extermination has never even been a nightmare on the horizon.

Numbly, she says, "I—the penalty for approaching him is death."

Mordechai, who has cared for her almost as long as she can remember, says, "You would prefer to outlive us all? Presuming he does not find out and throw you in with us?"

She shakes her head. She has never heard fear in his voice as she does now. "I shall fast. For three days, I shall fast and on the fourth day…" She looks away so he will not see the way her smile is bitter. "Let us hope G-d hears inside these walls."

*

Esther has been raised to manage a household her entire life. In another six months, perhaps a year, she would likely have had her own with a Jewish boy chosen by Mordechai with input from a few elders. She would have made the scant space of the kitchen function as efficiently as she knew, would have bargained at market to keep the costs of daily living low, would have patched and mended clothing and linens, would have created a home from four walls and a roof.

Managing a palace is nothing like managing a house. Her awareness of how the kitchen works is useless, and she does not know half the dishes the head cook wishes to make, asks her how she feels about. She flounders trying to organize dinners for the king.

She is dressed by maids who assure her their choices are the height of fashion, appropriate only for a Queen. She feels naked and unmoored. The cloth from one outfit is enough to feed at least three families from her home for a month, possibly more. Its touch against her skin is soft and silken and utterly foreign, chilling her at times despite the ever-present sultry heat.

In the only true act of defiance she has managed since being chosen, she seeks out one of the concubines. They are not palace residents, often serving several royal families rather than the king himself, but she has seen one or two accompany a courtier for a stay of a few days. The one she finds bows her head and whispers obeisance and Esther takes her hands and says, "Would you take a cup of tea with me?"

The concubine, Jaleh, sips with what seems to be such innate grace. When Esther quietly, shakily murmurs, "Please, I…I am unsure how to pleasure my husband," Jaleh nods politely, as if Esther has not said something madly improper.

"Of course. It's not something they teach us growing up, is it?" Her smile is studded with secrets and a thin layer of kindness.

Esther shakes her head. "I…I want only to be the best queen I know how to be."

_I want only to make sure he has every reason to listen to me, every reason to be desperate that I stay._ She had admired Queen Vashti, when the stories had reached their little village-within-the-village, thought about how defying an unjust order was the only way to _keep_ order, and about how preserving one's modesty over one's standing in the material world was only right. But if the king orders Esther to dance naked, orders her to be taken by other men, she will. She will grit her teeth and even force a smile if he wants, so long as it makes her prized, makes her _necessary._

There are more important things than one small woman's modesty, her pride.

Jaleh says, "I shall teach you some tricks, but, my little Queen, I promise you, men are more interested in innocence than skill. And skill…well, it comes."

With time, Esther thinks. That is not a luxury she has.

*

Esther is faint with hunger, but bright-eyed, nearly fevered with determination when she draws herself over her husband in his bed, the bed he has called her to night after night. He is loose-limbed from her efforts, his eyes tracing over her naked body with sated, blank adoration.

She says, "My husband, I should like to take a meal with you and Haman, should it meet with your approval."

Her voice is not steady as she makes the request. She had hoped to keep it so, but in the moment, her heart is that of a small creature's: too frantic, too loud. She is almost certain he will hear it, will pluck it from her chest.

Instead, he runs a hand down her side, hand lazily cupping at her breast. His smile is capricious, amused, but he says, "Then have a meal with us, you shall."

*

She had imagined she would be afraid to reveal her Judaism, that her resolve would falter, that she might have to repeat the words to make them clear.

Instead, Esther finds the words flow off her lips, glide off her tongue in a way nothing has since being chosen. She names herself as Jewish and it is as if a part she did not even notice missing fits itself back into its proper place inside her.

She sees her husband's eyes widen, sees the way he looks at her as if expecting to see something different than the moment before. For the first time, she holds his gaze. Her chest expands with a rush of breath, the heart inside it strangely calm.

He says, "Who, who would dare such a thing?"

She smiles and speaks and is heard.


End file.
